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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya’s fingers trace a feather-light path across Shane’s collarbone.

    “Or maybe,” Ilya says slowly. “You are jealous of her.”

    Shane twists, a token kind of struggle; Ilya hardly budges.

    “No,” Shane says.

    Ilya makes a thoughtful sound.

    “Are you sure? Marly is big, strong hockey player who played in Boston. Just your type.”

    “Fuck off,” Shane says, but it’s no good when his traitorous dick is obviously hard, positioned just where Ilya’s hips are resting on Shane’s own. Ilya grinds down, just a little, and Shane’s breath catches. Almost without thinking, he’s straining upwards, trying to get Ilya to kiss him. When their mouths are nearly close enough to touch, Ilya says —

    “You want me to tell you about it?”

    OR

    5 times Ilya suggests someone for a fantasy threesome while they're fucking, and 1 time Shane does.

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    04 Jul 2026

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Newly turned vampire Shane Hollander is determined not to be a monster or let his new status stop him in any way from his dream of becoming an NHL star. He stubbornly keeps a diurnal schedule, only drinks animal blood, and never so much as bares his fangs in polite company.

    His careful rhythm is disrupted when natural born vampire Ilya Rozanov waltzes into his life. Ilya is his opposite in every way: no sleep schedule to speak of, freely mixes matters of blood and sex, and grins with his fangs when he’s particularly pleased.

    All this should repulse Shane, of course, not make him so desperate it’s as if some part of him has been waiting his whole life to surrender to the uncontrollable attraction.

    [Now with a sequel: More Alive Than You’d Know]

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    14 Mar 2026

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  3. Public Bookmark 48

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    Even at a distance, Ilya’s presence a few feet away felt like a magnetic pull. Shane’s body was screaming with need for him. He could smell a hint of his cologne in the air and the shampoo he used. He rotated the beer bottle against his palms, but it no longer provided the cold he needed to steady him.

    . . .

    Ilya’s wide hips sat like pillars inside the leather.  His thighs rubbed together as he walked, and with every step, Shane salivated at the thought of himself in between the thick muscles. The leather did not look nearly strong enough to contain any of Ilya’s leg muscles, but especially not his quads. The muscle that Ilya used primarily to win faceoffs was now threatening to rip the fabric right above his knee.  He was the picture of a God. And Shane wanted all of him. 

    . . .

    Ilya was the first to separate, only enough to find Shane’s lips. There were no battling tongues or tugs of lips with teeth. It was a preemptively pining warm embrace; gentle, soft, short but with a lingering touch.

    OR: 8 months post cottage and one stolen moment in a Boston alley

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    05 Apr 2026

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  4. Public Bookmark 68

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    “So… “ Shane's eyes glittered in the dim light. “You wanna do the same thing as last time? Because I could be amenable to that.”

     

    the one where ilya makes up for what his goofy ass did and didn't do when they were in las vegas last.

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    06 Apr 2026

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  5. Public Bookmark 67

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    Shane Hollander was the forfeit in a winner's room, once. He's not going to make anyone else go through that.

    Rozanov doesn't give a shit about what Hollander wants.

    Language:
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    06 Apr 2026

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